Nightmare
by Dede42
Summary: When Sam has a nightmare about a complete stranger dying inside his car, the Winchesters go to investigate to see whether his death was purely a suicide or if something supernatural is involved. What they don't expect to find, is someone else who is going through a similar unique change and is using that change to harm others. Will the Winchesters get out alive?
1. Chapter 1

Supernatural: Nightmare

A/N: Greetings everyone! I'm back with a new story where we'll be learning more about Sam's strange dream ability, discovers that he may not be the only one undergoing strange changes, and that he and his siblings aren't the only to lose their mom in a nursery fire.

Read, review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from _Supernatural_. I just own any and all characters that I just happen create.

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE: MORE VISIONS? **

_`"'A man is parking his car in his garage; he turns off the gas and starts gathering some things in the car. All of a sudden, the garage door closes on its own, and the car doors lock themselves; the key turns in the ignition and the car roars into life. The man watches, confused, as the garage and the car begin to fill with smoky carbon monoxide; he starts coughing while trying to unlock the doors, which doesn't open.'_

_`"'The man shakes the keys out of the ignition, but the car doesn't turn off; panicking, he uses his jacket to cover the vents in the car, but the carbon monoxide continues to fill up the vehicle.'_

_`"'Help! Somebody, help me! Somebody, help!'_

_`"'He continues to pound on the doors and windows; soon, he collapses on his seat, dead.'"`_

* * *

There was a blinding flash of white light, and Sam burst awake; he sat up in his bed, sweating._ 'Another vision! But who was that man?'_

Breathing hard, he reached over and began shaking his brother's arm. "Dean," he hissed, shaking him awake, and this lead to Liz waking up, too. "Dean."

Both Dean and Liz groaned; Sam got out of bed and started moving quickly around the room, turning on other lamps.

"What are you doing, man?" Dean asked blearily and sat up along with Liz, preventing her from hiding under the blankets. "It's the middle of the night."

"We have to go," Sam said, packing some items in a duffle bag and closed it.

"What's happening?" Dean asked sleepily.

"We have to go," Sam insisted. "Right now."

* * *

It wasn't long before, Dean was speeding down the road, while Sam talked on the phone.

"McCreedy. Detective McCreedy, badge number 15A," Sam read from a piece of paper and a fake id. "And I've got a signal 480 in progress. I need the registered owner of a two-door Sedan, Michigan license plate, Mary, Frank, 6037." He listened to the person on the other end. "Yeah, okay, just hurry."

"Sammy, relax," Dean said reassuringly while Liz yawned from the backseat. "I'm sure it's just a nightmare."

Sam sighed. "Yeah, tell me about it."

"No, I mean it," Dean said confidently. "You know, a normal, everyday, naked-in-class nightmare. This license plate, it won't check out, you'll see."

"It felt different, Dean, Liz," Sam said, uncertain. "Real. Like when I dreamt about our old house and Jessica."

"Well, yeah, that makes sense," Dean said sarcastically. "You're dreamin' about our house, your girlfriend. This guy in your dream, you ever seen him before?"

Sam shook his head. "No."

"No, exactly," Dean agreed. "Why would you have premonitions about some random dude in Michigan?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know."

Dean nodded. "Me neither."

"Yes, I'm here," Sam said into his phone while Liz sat up, curious. "Jim Miller. Saginaw, Michigan. You have a street address?" he listened again. "Got it. Thanks." He wrote down the information and hung up, stunned. "Checks out. How far are we?"

"From Saginaw?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

"Couple hours," Dean answered.

Sam nodded, a grim expression etching itself across his face. "Drive faster."

Nodding while Dean glanced at Liz in the review mirror, stepped on the gas, and they sped away.

* * *

Police cars and ambulances were surrounding the area; paramedics were putting Jim Miller's body in a body bag, while police officers were talking to Jim's family. The Winchesters pulled up and observed the scene, disappointed that they were too late, and they exchanged a look.

Getting out of the car, Dean, Liz, and Sam were walking around, observing.

"What happened?" Dean asked a nearby woman.

"Suicide," the woman answered. "I can't believe it."

"Did you know him?" Sam asked.

"I saw him every Sunday at St. Augustine's," the woman answered. "He always seems - seemed so normal. I guess you never know what's going on behind closed doors."

"Yeah, I guess not," Dean agreed.

"How did - how are they saying it happened?" Sam asked, doing his best to phrase his question without drawing attention.

"I heard they found him in the garage," the woman explained. "Locked inside his car with the engine running."

Dean, Liz, and Sam exchanged a look. Just like in Sam's vision.

"Do you know about what time they found him?" Liz asked.

"Oh, it just happened about an hour or two ago. Oh, his poor family," the woman said, sighing. "I can't even imagine what they're going through."

On the front steps of the house, a woman, presumably Jim's wife, was sobbing into the shoulder of a older man, and a slightly younger man was standing nearby. Seeing this, Sam became very upset and walked away, and both Dean and Liz followed him to the car.

"Sam, we got here as fast as we could," Dean told him, not wanting Sam to kick himself over all of this.

"Not fast enough," Sam complained. "It just doesn't make any sense, man. Why would I even have these premonitions, unless there was a chance that I could stop them from happening?"

Dean and Liz both shrugged as this was new territory for them both. "I don't know."

Sam sighed deeply. "So, what do you think killed him?"

"Maybe the guy just killed himself," Dean suggested. "You know, maybe there's nothing - supernatural going on at all."

"I'm telling you, I watched it happen," Sam stated, frustrated. "He was murdered by something, Dean, Liz. It trapped him in the garage."

"Well, what? A spirit, a poltergeist, what?" Dean asked.

"I don't know what it was," Sam admitted. "I don't know why I'm having these dreams, I don't know what the hell is happening, Dean, Liz." And frowned when his older siblings stared at him. "What?"

"Nothing, man, I'm just worried about you," Dean answered.

"We're both worried, Sam," Liz added.

Sam sighed again. "Well, don't look at me like that."

"I'm not lookin' at you like anything," Dean told him. "Though I gotta say, you look like crap."

Sam rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Nice. Thanks."

Dean chuckled, but he was still worried. "Yeah, well…Come on, let's just pick this up in the morning," he suggested. "We'll check out the house, we'll talk to the family."

"Dean, you saw them, they're devastated," Sam pointed out. "They're not gonna wanna talk to us."

"Yeah, you're right," Dean agreed. "But I think I know who they will talk to."

Sam and Liz exchanged wary looks, wondering what Dean was up to this time. "Who?"

And Dean just smirked at them. _Never_ a good sign.

* * *

The next day, Dean rang the doorbell and waited for someone to answer while grinning at his twin sister and little brother, and neither were thrilled with what they were wearing.

"This has got to be a whole new low for us," Sam moaned, his hair was combed and gelled back neatly.

"At least you're not wearing a skirt," Liz grumbled.

Dean smiled, and then Jim's brother, Roger, opened the door, revealing that the brothers were wearing ministers' outfits, and Liz was wearing a black nun habit.

"Good afternoon," Dean said pleasantly. "I'm Father Simmons, this is Father Frehley, and this is Sister Mary Clarence. We're new junior priests over at St. Augustine's. May we come in?" Roger nodded, and they went in. "Thanks."

"We're very sorry for your loss," Sam added, and Roger closed the door.

"It's in difficult times like these when the Lord's guidance is most needed," Dean began.

"Look, if you wanna pitch your whole Lord-has-a-plan thing, fine," Roger cut in rudely. "But don't pitch it to me. My brother is dead."

Just then, Jim's wife, Mrs. Miller, came into the hallway and overheard them. "Roger, please," she scolded.

"Excuse me," Roger said to the Winchesters, pulling in his temper, and he left.

"I'm sorry about my brother-in-law," Mrs. Miller apologized. "He's just so upset about Jim's death. Would you like some coffee?"

"That'd be great," Dean responded pleasantly.

* * *

Soon Sam, Liz, and Dean were sitting on the couch, and Mrs. Miller handed each of them a cup of coffee.

"It was wonderful of you to stop by," she told them pleasantly. "The support of the church means so much right now."

"Of course," Dean agreed. "After all, we are all God's children."

Liz almost choked on her coffee, Sam stared at him strangely, and Mrs. Miller walked away; when she was gone, Dean took a mini hot dog from a platter and are it, making Sam scoff and Liz sigh.

"What?" Dean asked.

"Just tone it down a little bit, Father," Sam suggested quietly.

Mrs. Miller returned and sat down next to Dean and Liz.

"So, Mrs. Miller, did your husband have a history of depression?" Dean asked, swallowing the hot dog quickly.

"Nothing like that," Mrs. Miller answered. "We had our ups and downs, like everyone. But we were happy." And she started crying. "I just don't understand how Jim could do something like that."

"I'm so sorry you had to find him like that," Sam told her honestly.

"Actually, our son, Max - he was the one who found him," Mrs. Miller responded, pointing to a teenage boy sitting alone in the corner of another room.

"Do you mind if maybe I go talk to him?" Sam requested.

Mrs. Miller nodded with a sad smile. "Oh, thank you, Father."

Sam smiled and nodded, and then walked over to Max in the dining room.

"Max? Hey, I'm Sam."

* * *

Meanwhile, Dean handed Mrs. Miller a tissue.

"Mrs. Miller, you have a lovely home," he commented. "How long have you lived here?"

"We moved in about five years ago," Mrs. Miller answered.

Dean nodded. "Hm. You know, the only problem with these old houses - I bet you have all kinds of headaches," he remarked

"Like what?" Mrs. Miller asked.

"Well, weird leaks. Electrical shortages," Dean suggested while Liz repressed a sigh. "Odd settling noises at night, that kind of thing."

"No, nothing like that," Mrs. Miller answered. "It's been perfect." And she smiled.

Dean nodded again. "Hm. May I use your restroom?" he requested.

Mrs. Miller nodded. "Oh, sure. It's just up the stairs."

"Okay." Dean took another hot dog, put it in his mouth, and headed toward the stairs, leaving Liz with the older woman.

"I've never met a Father like him before," Mrs. Miller commented and Liz smiled slightly.

"Yes, Father Simmons is certainly one of a kind," she agreed._ 'I'm _so_ going to kill Dean for making me wear this stupid outfit!'_

* * *

Meanwhile, Sam was talking with Max.

"So, what was your dad like?" he asked.

"Just a normal dad," Max answered sadly.

"Yeah? And you live at home now?" Sam asked.

Max nodded. "Yeah. I'm tryin' to save up for school, but it's hard."

"So, when you found your dad…" Sam began hesitantly.

"I woke up," Max answered. "I heard the engine running. I don't know why he did it."

"I know it's rough," Sam agreed. "Losing a parent. Especially when you don't have all the answers."

Max said nothing, but it was obvious that Sam was reaching him.

* * *

Once on the second floor, Dean looked around to make sure no one was there and removed an infrared thermal scanner from his jacket, and turned it on; he looked through every room on the top floor but saw nothing unusual. He heard someone coming up the stairs and quickly put the scanner away, just as both Sam and Liz appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Anything?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head. "Zip."

Sighting, they went back downstairs.

* * *

A/N: And here is the first chapter of my new story; I had to do some research for Liz's nun outfit and the Mary Clarence name does come from _Sister Act_. R&R everyone!


	2. Chapter 2: Another Death

Supernatural: Nightmare

A/N: Once more I have returned to give you all another chapter and things are going to get interesting for the Winchesters, especially when it comes to Sam's ability doing something unexpected.

Read, review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from _Supernatural_. I just own any and all characters that I just happen create.

* * *

**CHAPTER TWO: ANOTHER DEATH**

That night, Dean and Liz were sitting on one of the beds, cleaning all of their weapons.

"So, what do you have?" Dean asked, pushing a rag through the gun muzzle.

"A whole lot of nothing," Sam answered, pinning several papers to the nearest wall. "Nothing bad has happened to the Miller house since it was built."

Dean frowned. "What about the land?"

"No graveyards, battlefields, tribal lands, or any other kind of atrocity on or near the property," Sam answered, sitting on the other bed.

"Hey, man, I told you I searched that house up and down," Dean informed him. "There were no cold spots, no sulfur scent, nada."

"And the family said everything was normal?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Liz agreed.

"Well, I mean, if there was a demon or a poltergeist in there, don't you think somebody would've noticed something?" Dean pointed out. "I used the infrared thermal scanner, man, there was nothing."

"So, what, you think Jim Miller killed himself?" Sam asked, dejected. "And my dream was just some sort of freakish coincidence?"

"I don't know," Dean admitted, shrugging. "But I'm pretty sure that there's nothing supernatural about that house."

"Yeah," Sam agreed when he was hit with a sudden headache; he grimaced and started massaging his temples. "Well, you know, maybe, uh - maybe it has nothing to do with the house. Maybe, it's just, uh – gosh - maybe it's connected to Jim in some other way." And he clutched his head in pain.

"What's wrong with you?" Dean asked, concerned.

"Are you okay, Sam?" Liz asked, worried.

Suddenly, Sam inhaled sharply and fell to his knees on the floor. "Yeah - my head!" and he screamed in pain.

Dropping their guns, both Dean and Liz rushed over to him and grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Sam? Hey. Hey! What's goin' on? Talk to me."

"Sam, look at us. What's wrong?"

Gasping for breath, Sam stared at Dean and Liz, but what he actually seeing was leaving him horrified.

* * *

_`"'Roger enters the kitchen with a bag of groceries and sets it on the counter. He opens a beer and drinks from it, with his back turned away from the door, and a dark figure walks past.'_

_`"'Inside the kitchen, the window on the opposite wall opens; Roger feels the draft and turns around. He closes the window and locks it; he then turns back to the bag of groceries. While putting them away, the window unlocks itself and opens again. Roger, confused, walks back to it and tries to shut it, but it does not budge; annoyed, he sticks his head out the window and looks up. Suddenly, the window slams shut on top of Roger's head, and there is a large amount of blood spattered on the glass.'"`_

* * *

Back in the motel, Sam was panting and sweating, looking terrified.

"It's happening again," he gasped, panicking. "Something's gonna kill Roger Miller."

* * *

Soon, Dean was behind the wheel, Liz was in the back seat, and Sam was on the phone once again.

"Roger Miller," he requested, listening. "No, no, just the address, please." He listened again. "Okay. Thanks." And he hung up. "450 West Grove, Apartment 1120."

Dean nodded. "You okay?" he asked, and even Liz was worried; even after the vision had faded, their little brother still looked ill, his face was all paled and sweaty.

Sam nodded, although his stomach was saying otherwise. "Yeah."

"If you're gonna hurl, I'll pull the car over, you know, 'cause the upholstery-" Dean began.

"I'm fine," Sam insisted.

Dean exchanged a look in the review mirror with Liz, but dropped the subject for the time being. "Alright."

Sam nodded. "Just drive."

"Alright."

Sam sighed, hating himself for lashing out at his older siblings. "Dean, Liz, I'm scared," he confessed. "These nightmares weren't bad enough, now I'm seein' things when I'm awake? And these visions, or whatever, they're getting more intense. And painful."

"Do you want some painkillers, Sam?" Liz asked, offering a small bottle from her jacket, and he just shook his head, wincing slightly at the pain.

"Come on, man, it'll be alright," Dean said reassuringly. "You'll be fine."

"What is it about the Millers?" Sam wondered, frustrated. "Why am I connected to them? Why am I watching them die? Why the _hell_ is this happening to me?"

Dean shrugged. "I don't know, Sam, but we'll figure it out, okay? We face the unexplainable every single day, this is just another thing," he said, doing his best to lighten the mood.

"No. It's never been us," Sam protested. "It's never been in the family like this. Tell the truth, you can't tell me this doesn't freak you out."

Dean didn't answer for a moment, and then he did. "This doesn't freak me out." But this _was_ freaking him out, and he didn't know what to make of his little brother's increasing visions.

Liz could tell that Dean was lying, but she didn't push the issue, mainly for the sake of Sam, and sat back in the seat. What were they going to do?

* * *

Roger was walking down the street with a bag of groceries when Dean, Liz, and Sam pulled up beside him.

"Hey, Roger!" Sam called out.

"Can we talk to you, Mr. Miller?" Liz requested.

"Hey, hold up a second," Dean said.

"What are you guys, missionaries?" Roger asked, annoyed. "Leave me alone."

"Please!" Sam shouted, frantic.

They pulled over to the side of the road, stopped the car, and got out; they ran toward the apartment building, where Roger was entering.

"Hey, Roger, we're tryin' to help! Please! Hey! Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!"

Roger shut the front door and locked it. _`"I don't want your help,"`_ he snarled through the glass, and walked away.

"We're not priests!" Sam shouted. "You've gotta listen to us!"

"Roger, you're in danger!" Dean yelled.

"Please listen to us!" Liz pleaded.

But Roger didn't come back. Breathing hard, Sam, Liz, and Dean looked around for another way in.

Dean saw something and tugged on their sleeves. "Come on! Come on, come on!" and they left.

* * *

Dean, Liz, and Sam ran to the side of the building, which was blocked by a gate; Dean kicked it down, and they ran down the narrow alley. They reached the fire escape and began climbing the countless flights of stairs. A minute later, they heard a crashing noise; fearing the worse, they climbed one more flight and reached Roger's window, which was covered with blood. Dean, Liz, who looked like she was going to be sick, and Sam stared with disbelief. Flustered, Dean took a few rags out of his pocket and handed one each to Liz and Sam, who was looking sick to his stomach, too.

"Here, start wiping down your fingerprints, we don't want the cops to know we were here," he told them. "Go, go, come on."

Still looking ill, both Liz and Sam took the rag and started wiping the railing of the fire escape.

"I'm gonna take a look inside," Dean added, opened another nearby window and climbed in; both Liz and Sam glanced at the bloodstained window and cringed.

* * *

A while later, Dean, Liz, and Sam were walking back to their car, having wiped away all of their fingerprints, and had done a quick search of the rooms.

"I'm tellin' you, there was nothing in there," Dean informed them. "There's no signs either, just like the Millers' house."

"I saw something in the vision, like a dark shape," Sam told them, thinking back on the vision. "Something was stalking Roger."

"Well, whatever it was, we can be sure it's not connected to their house," Dean remarked.

"And I doubt it's connected to the apartment either," Liz agreed, still shaken by the experience.

"No, it's connected to the family itself," Sam stated. "So, what do you think we got? A vengeful spirit?" he asked, stopping at the car and got inside.

"Yeah, there's a few that have been known to latch onto families, follow 'em for years," Dean agreed.

Sam nodded. "Banshees."

"Basically like a curse," Dean confirmed. "So, maybe Roger and Jim Miller got involved in something heavy. Something curse-worthy."

"And now something's out for revenge," Sam agreed, worried. "And the men in their family are dying. Hey, you think Max is in danger?"

Dean and Liz exchanged a grim look. "Let's figure it out before he is." And he started the car.

Sam sighed. "Well, I know one thing I have in common with these people."

"What's that?" Liz asked.

"Both our families are cursed," Sam answered.

"Our family's not cursed," Dean protested while Liz didn't look so sure. "We just…had our dark spots."

Sam laughed. "Our dark spots are pretty dark."

Dean flushed. "You're – dark," he stammered before driving them away before the police could show up.

* * *

The next morning, Sam, Liz, and Dean were dressed as ministers and a nun again, and were talking to Max.

"My mom's resting," he explained. "She's pretty wrecked."

"Of course," Dean agreed, having just buried a second family member in just a few days after the first one.

"All these people kept coming with, like, casseroles. I finally had to tell them all to go away," Max continued, gesturing to the dining room table, which was covered with trays of casserole. "You know, 'cause nothing says "I'm sorry" like a tuna casserole," he added sarcastically.

They laughed and Max motioned for them to sit down.

"How you holdin' up?" Sam asked.

"I'm okay," Max answered, even though his expression said otherwise.

"Your dad and your uncle were close?" Liz asked.

Max shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. I mean, they were brothers," he said off-handedly. "They used to hang out all the time when I was little."

"But not lately much?" Sam asked.

"No, it's not that," Max explained. "It's just - we used to be neighbors when I was kid. And we lived across town in this house, and Uncle Roger lived next door, so he was over all the time."

"Right. So, how was it in that house when you were a kid?" Sam asked.

Max shrugged, but there was now a slight amount of tension to his shoulders. "It was fine. Why?"

"All good memories?" Dean asked. "Do you remember anything unusual? Something involving your father and your uncle, maybe?"

"What do you - why do you ask?" Max asked, now a bit flustered.

Dean shrugged. "Just a question."

"No. There was nothing," Max answered emotionlessly. "We were totally normal. Happy."

"Good. That's good," Dean said, but both he and Liz could tell that there was something off about all of this. "Well, you must be exhausted. We should take off."

"Right," Sam agreed and then looked back at Max. "Thanks."

Max nodded. "Yeah."

* * *

Soon, the Winchesters were walking back to the car.

"Nobody's family is totally normal and happy," Dean stated, having seen through the lie. "Did you see when he was talkin' about his old house?"

"Sounded scared," Sam agreed.

Both Liz and Dean nodded.

"Yeah, Max isn't tellin' us everything," Liz remarked. "I say we go find the old neighborhood, and find out what life was really like at the Millers'." And they got in the car.

* * *

A/N: It's never fun when the Winchesters are unable to save someone from a gruesome death, and with Sam having visions when he's awake is rough, especially since he always has painful headaches. R&R everyone!


	3. Chapter 3: A SURPRISING CONNECTION

Supernatural: Nightmare

A/N: I return with another chapter and just so you know, this will have references to child abuse, which is a big problem that needs to be dealt with, and so I hope you all understand where Max is coming from when you read this. I've only known one person who had been abused, I think, and the last time I saw her in high school, she was doing a lot better because she was able to break the cycle of abuse, which isn't easy. Anyway, on with the story!

Read, review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from _Supernatural_. I just own any and all characters that I just happen create.

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE: A SURPRISING CONNECTION**

"Have you lived in the neighborhood very long?" Sam asked a neighbor, who was racking his yard.

"Yeah, almost twenty years now," the neighbor answered. "It's nice and quiet. Why, you lookin' to buy?"

Sam shook his head. "No, no, actually, we were just wondering if you might recall a family that used to live right across the street, I believe."

"Yeah, the Millers," Dean added. "They had a little boy named Max."

Sam nodded. "Right."

"Yeah, I remember," the man said, a sad expression on his face. "The brother had the place next door." And he pointed to the house across the street. "So, uh, what's this about? That poor kid okay?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Liz asked.

"Well, in my life, I've never seen a child treated like that," he explained. "I mean, I'd hear Mr. Miller yellin' and throwin' things clear across the street. He was a mean drunk. He used to beat the tar out of Max. Bruises - broke his arm two times that I know of."

"And this was going on regularly?" Sam asked, shocked.

He nodded. "Practically every day," he confirmed, agreeing with their disgusted expressions. "In fact, that thug brother of his was just as likely to take a swing at the boy, but the worst part was the stepmother. She'd just stand there, checked out, and never lifted a finger to protect him. I must have called the police seven or eight times, never did any good."

Dean started. "Now, you said stepmother."

"I think his real mom died," the man said, thinking. "Some sort of accident - a car accident, I think." He then glanced at Sam. "Are you okay, there?" he asked.

Dean and Liz both glanced at Sam, and saw that he was clutching his head and breathing sharply, just like he did when he had that vision earlier.

"Yeah," Sam grunted painfully.

"Thanks for your time," Dean said and Liz nodded as they both moved quickly to get Sam out of there.

"Yeah, thank you."

Moving to either side of their little brother, Dean and Liz both helped Sam back to the car; but before they could get him inside, Sam stopped and stared into space, looking terrified.

* * *

_`"'Mrs. Miller is chopping vegetables quickly.'_

_`"'I don't know what you mean by that," she says tearfully and sharply. "You know I never did anything.'_

_`"'Max is standing in the doorway, crying. "That's right," he agrees. "You didn't do anything. You didn't stop them, not once!" and the knife on the cutting board begins to move, and then levitates in the air.'_

_`"'How did you-?" Mrs. Miller begins as_ _the knife flies through the air towards her and she backs herself against the wall; the knife points itself directly at her eye, barely a centimeter away. "Max, please!'_

_`"'For every time you stood there and watched," Max snarls. "Pretending it wasn't happening!'_

_`"'I'm sorry!" Mrs. Miller cries fearfully.'_

`_"'No, you're not," Max snaps. "You just don't want to die.'_

_`"'The knife moves backwards and then flies straight towards Mrs. Miller and goes right through her head; blood sprays on the wall, and Max stands there, shocked.'"`_

* * *

After recovering and telling them what he'd seen, Sam, Liz, and Dean were now driving.

"Max is doing it," he confirmed. "Everything I've been seeing."

"You sure about this?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I saw."

"How's he pullin' it off?" Liz asked.

"I don't know. It looked like telekinesis," Sam answered, still shaken up by the vision.

"So, he's psychic?" Dean asked, surprised. "He's a spoon-bender?"

"I didn't even realize it, but this whole time he was there," Sam explained as several puzzle pieces fell into place. "He was outside of the garage when his dad died, he was in the apartment when his uncle died. These visions, this whole time, I wasn't connecting to the Millers, I was connecting to Max. The thing I don't get is why, man? I guess because we're so alike?"

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked. "The dude's nothing like you."

"Well, we both have psychic abilities," Sam remarked. "We're both-"

"Both what? Sam, Max is a monster," Dean cut in. "He's already killed two people, and now he's gunnin' for a third."

"Well, with what he went through - the beatings," Sam retorted. "To want revenge on those people, I'm sorry, man, I hate to say it, but it's not that insane."

"Unfortunately I have to agree with Sam on this one," Liz said from the backseat. "From the sounds of things, Max has been abused his whole life, and now he's getting payback."

"Yeah, but it doesn't justify murdering your entire family," Dean snapped.

"Dean-" Sam and Liz both began.

"He's no different than anything else we've hunted," Dean declared. "Alright, we've gotta end him." and he pulled the car over and shut off the engine.

"We're not gonna kill Max," Sam protested.

"Then what?" Dean demanded. "I hand him over to the cops and say "Lock him up, officer, he kills with the power of his mind"."

Sam wasn't about to let his own brother kill a human being, even one with abilities. "Forget it. No way, man."

"Sam-" Dean began.

"No, Dean," Liz snapped. "No one else is dying today."

"Dean. He's a person," Sam said, agreeing with Liz. "We can talk to him. Hey, promise me you'll follow my lead on this one."

Dean stared at them both and then sighed. "Alright, fine. But I'm not lettin' him hurt anybody else," he added, reaching into the glove compartment and pulled out a gun. They then got out of the car.

* * *

Just like in Sam's vision, Mrs. Miller was chopping vegetables and crying. "You know I never did anything."

"That's right," Max cried, standing in the doorway. "You didn't do anything." And the knife began to rattle on the cutting board. "You didn't stop them, not once!"

At that exact moment, Dean, Liz, and Sam burst through the kitchen door, and the knife stopped moving.

"Fathers? Sister?" Mrs. Miller asked, surprised.

"What are you doing here?" Max asked, also surprised.

"Uh, sorry to interrupt," Dean stammered, hiding the gun inside his jacket.

"Max, could we, uh - could we talk to you outside for just one second?" Sam requested, relieved that they'd managed to keep his vision from coming true.

"About what?" Max asked, slowly calming down.

"It's - it's private. I wouldn't wanna bother your mother with it," Sam answered. "We won't be long at all, though. I promise."

Max glanced at his stepmother. "Okay."

Sam was glad. "Great."

Turning back, Max walked to Sam, Liz, who was also relieved, and Dean, who smiled and opened the front door. Max glanced in the mirror by the door and saw the gun sticking out of Dean's jeans; the door suddenly slammed shut, along with all the windows.

"You're not priests! And you're not a nun!" he shouted.

Reacting quickly, Dean took out the gun and pointed it at Max, but he used his telekinesis to grab the gun from Dean. It dropped on the floor, and Max picked it up, pointing it at Sam, Liz, and Dean.

"Max, what's happening?!" Mrs. Miller yelped, frightened.

"Shut up!" Max ordered.

"What are you doing?!" Mrs. Miller demanded.

Completely out of control, Max jerked his head, and Mrs. Miller was flung into the kitchen counter, and she collapsed on the floor. "I said shut up!" he roared.

"Max, calm down!" Sam yelled.

"Who are you?!" Max demanded.

"We just wanna talk to you," Sam said, lowering the volume of his own voice.

Max didn't believe him. "Yeah, right, that's why you brought this!"

"That was a mistake, alright?" Sam agreed. "So was lying about who we were, but no more lying, Max, okay? Just, please - just hear me out."

"About what?" Max asked.

"I saw you do it," Sam explained. "I saw you kill your dad and your uncle before it happened."

Max stared at him, confused. "What?"

"I'm having visions, Max," Sam confirmed. "About you."

Max didn't believe him. "You're crazy."

"So, you weren't gonna launch a knife at your step-mom?" Sam asked, pointing to his own eye. "Right here? Is it that hard to believe, Max? Look what you can do. Max, I was drawn here, alright? I think I'm here to help you."

"No one can help me!" Max cried.

"Let me try," Sam pleaded. "We'll just talk. Me and you. We'll get Dean, Liz, and Alice out of here."

Dean shook his head while instinctively standing between Max and Liz. "Nuh-uh. No way."

Sam held up his index finger, just as the light fixture above them started to shake.

"Nobody leaves this house!" Max roared.

"And nobody has to, alright?" Sam agreed, keeping his voice even. "They'll just - they'll just go upstairs."

Dean didn't like this idea one bit. "Sam, we're not leavin' you alone with him."

"Sam," Liz whispered, scared.

"Yes, you are," Sam told them quietly before returning his attention to Max. "Look, Max, you're in charge here, alright? We all know that. No one's gonna do anything that you don't want to, but I'm talkin' five minutes here, man."

"Sam," Dean hissed, but Sam held up his index finger again.

"Five minutes," Max agreed and the light fixture stopped shaking. "Go."

Both Dean and Liz moved to the kitchen and shook Mrs. Miller awake; she groaned, and they carefully picked her up.

* * *

Once Dean and Liz were upstairs with Mrs. Miller; Max and Sam were sitting on couches, facing each other. With his mind, Max moved a letter opener so that it was standing upright and slowly it began to spin.

"Look, I can't begin to understand what you went through," Sam admitted.

Max kept his eyes fixed on the letter opener. "That's right, you can't," he agreed.

"Max, this has to stop," Sam requested.

"It will," Max promised. "After my stepmother."

"No," Sam refused. "You need to let her go."

"Why?" Max asked and the letter opener began to spin faster on its tip.

"Did she beat you?" Sam asked.

Max shook his head. "No. But she never tried to save me, she's a part of it, too."

"Look, what they did to you, what they all did to you, growing up - they deserve to be punished," Sam agreed.

"Growing up?" Max scoffed. "Try last week." He then stood up and raised his shirt; there was a large bruise on his stomach and ribs, along with multiple cuts. "My dad still hit me, just in places people wouldn't see it. Old habits die hard, I guess." And he sat back down.

Sam was stunned. "I'm sorry."

Max looked back at the letter opener, which was spinning faster. "When I first found out I could move things, it was a gift," he explained, nearly happy. "My whole life I was helpless. But now I had this. So, last week, Dad gets drunk - first time in a long time. And he beats me to hell - first time in a long time. And then I knew what I had to do."

"Why didn't you just leave?" Sam asked and jumped when the letter opener fell over.

"It wasn't about getting away - just knowing that they'd still be out there," Max growled. "It was about not being afraid. When my dad used to look at me, there was hate in his eyes. Do you know what that feels like?"

Sam shook his head. "No," he said softly.

"He blamed me for everything," Max complained. "For his job, for his life, for my mom's death."

"Why would he blame you for your mom's death?" Sam asked, confused.

"Because she died in my nursery. While I was asleep in my crib," Max explained and Sam's eyes grew wide. "As if that makes it my fault."

"She died in your nursery?" Sam asked, shocked.

"Yeah. There was a fire," Max confirmed. "And he'd get drunk and babble on like she died in some insane way. He said that she burned up. Pinned to the ceiling."

Sam was shocked, because this was _way_ too familiar. "Listen to me, Max," he said quickly. "What your dad said about what happened to your mom - it's real."

"What?" Max asked, confused.

"It happened to my mom, too," Sam confirmed. "Exactly the same - my nursery, my crib. My dad saw her on the ceiling."

Max scoffed. "Then your dad must have been as drunk as mine."

Sam shook his head, realizing what the connection he had to Max was. "No. No, it's the same thing, Max. The same thing killed our mothers."

Max couldn't believe it. "That's not possible."

"This must be why I've been having visions during the day," Sam remarked, putting the puzzle pieces together. "Why they're getting more intense. 'Cause you and I must be connected in some way. Your abilities - they started six, seven months ago, right? Out of the blue?"

Max was surprised. "How'd you know that?"

"Because that's when my abilities started, Max," Sam confirmed. "I mean, yours seem to be much further along, but still, this - this means something, right? I mean, for some reason, you and I - you and I were chosen."

"For what?" Max asked.

"I don't know," Sam admitted. "But Dean, Liz, and I - my brother, sister, and I, we're hunting for your mom's killer. And we can find answers. Answers that can help us both. But you gotta let us go. You gotta let your stepmother go."

Max was thoughtful for a moment, almost as if he truly wanted to believe what Sam was telling him, wanted to trust him fully; but then his expression turned cold again, and he shook his head.

"No. What they did to me - I still have nightmares!" he shouted. "I'm still scared all the time, like I'm just waiting for their next beating! I'm just tired of being scared. If I do this, it'll be over!" He got up and started walking towards the stairs, but Sam ran in front of him.

"No, don't you get it? It won't," Sam stated. "The nightmares won't end, Max, not like this. It's just more pain. And it makes you as bad as them. Max, you don't have to go through all this by yourself."

Max stared at him for a moment, and his expression became regretful. "I'm sorry."

And the next thing that Sam knew, he was being flung into a closet and the doors slammed shut. _`"No!"`_

Max used his abilities to move a large wardrobe in front of the closet, which snapped off the doorknob, and Sam pounded on the doors.

_`"No, Max! No! Max!"`_

Ignoring Sam, Max walked to the stairs.

* * *

A/N: I now doom you all with a cliffy until next week. BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! Seriously though, you have to feel sorry for Max, being abused by his dad and uncle for so long, and that can make almost anyone snap. R&R everyone!


	4. Chapter 4: A SAD ENDING

Supernatural: Nightmare

A/N: I'm back with the final chapter, and it looks like things are gonna get worse for the Winchesters at the rate things are going.

Read, review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from _Supernatural_. I just own any and all characters that I just happen create.

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR: A SAD ENDING**

Unaware of what was going on downstairs, both Dean and Liz were kneeling next to Mrs. Miller, and they were holding a washcloth to her head, when the bedroom door opened on its own; Max entered, and the door closed. Dean started to walk towards Max when he didn't see Sam, but then both he and Liz were thrown into a wall, and they fell to the ground.

Max pulled out the gun.

"Max!" Mrs. Miller gasped.

Groaning, both Dean and Liz got up from the floor and started moving towards Max, but when he let go of the gun, it hovers in the air, and they both stopped, staring at it in shock. Mrs. Miller followed the gun with her eyes as it floated towards the Winchester twins; but the gun stopped in front of Mrs. Miller, it cocked, and then it turned towards her.

"No. Max," she whispered, fearfully as she stood up slowly.

Dean moved to stand in front of her when the gun shifted its aim toward him, and he stopped.

"Stay back," Max ordered. "It's not about you."

Dean refused to move. "If you wanna kill her, you gotta go through me first," he stated.

Max smiled coldly. "Okay." And wit his mind, the trigger was pulled and Dean was shot through the head; both Liz, who screamed, and the wall behind them was covered in blood, and he collapsed to the floor. Dead.

* * *

Sam was sweating heavily and leaning against the door of the closet in pain as the vision of Dean dying faded. "No! _NOO!"_

* * *

Outside, the wardrobe moved away from the closet.

* * *

Inside, Sam panted and was confused. Had he actually moved the wardrobe with his mind? And he cautiously pushed the closet door open.

* * *

Meanwhile, Max had the gun in the air, pointed at his stepmother, and Dean was glaring at Max, clenching his jaw, angry.

"Max. No," Mrs. Miller whispered fearfully.

With his eyes on Max, Dean stepped forward in front of Mrs. Miller, and the gun immediately shifted and it was now aimed at him.

"Stay back," Max ordered. "It's not about you."

Dean refused to move. "If you wanna kill her, you gotta go through me first."

Max smiled coldly. "Okay." He was about to pull the trigger when Sam burst through the door, and the gun flinched, just like Max.

"No, don't! Don't! Please. Please, Max," Sam pleaded. "Max, we can help you, alright? But this - what you're doing - it's not the solution. It's not gonna fix anything."

Max stared at him for a moment, desperation on his features. "You're right," he whispered.

Sam smiled slightly, and then suddenly, Max pointed the gun towards himself and shot himself in the head, falling to the ground.

"No!" Sam shouted, but it was too late. Max was dead.

* * *

A while later, police officers were investigating the house, and Mrs. Miller was talking to a cop.

"Max attacked me," she told him. "He threatened me with a gun."

The police officer gestured toward Sam, Liz, and Dean, who were standing by. "And these three?"

"They're…family friends," Mrs. Miller answered. "I called them as soon as Max arrived, I was scared." And her voice broke. "They tried to stop him. They fought for the gun."

"Where did Max get the gun?" the police officer asked.

"I don't know!" Mrs. Miller cried hysterically. "He showed up with it, and-" but she couldn't go on.

"It's alright, Mrs. Miller," the police officer told her.

Mrs. Miller wept. "I've lost everyone!" and she continued to sob.

The police officer then turned to Sam, Liz, and Dean. "Okay. We'll give you a call if we have any further questions."

"Thanks, officer," Dean said and then turned to Sam and Liz. "Come on." And they left.

* * *

Leaving the house, Sam, Liz, and Dean were walking back to the car.

Sam shook his head. "If I just said somethin' else. Gotten through to him somehow."

"Don't do that," Dean protested.

"Do what?" Sam asked.

"Torture yourself," Dean stated. "It wouldn't have mattered what you said, Max was too far gone."

"Sadly, I agree with Dean," Liz said reluctantly. "You _did_ do everything that you could, Sam, but all that Max dealt with…it was too much for him in the end."

Sam sighed. "When I think about how he looked at me, man, right before - should've done something."

"Come on, man, you risked your life," Dean pointed out. "I mean, yeah, maybe if we had gotten there twenty years earlier." And they stopped at the Impala.

"Well, I'll tell you one thing - we're lucky we had Dad," Sam said.

Dean and Liz were surprised. "I never thought I'd hear you say that."

"Well, he could've gone a whole 'other way after Mom," Sam remarked. "A little more tequila, a little less demon-hunting, and we would've had Max's childhood. All things considered, we turned out okay-thanks to him."

Dean thought about that. "All things considered." And they got in the car.

* * *

Later at the motel, Dean, Liz, and Sam were getting ready to leave, packing their bags.

"Dean, I've been thinking," Sam said.

"Well, that's never a good thing," Dean joked, only to be kicked in the shin by Liz. "Hey!"

"Be kind," Liz scolded.

"I'm serious," Sam stated, but he did smile slightly. "I've been thinking - why would this demon, or whatever it is, why would it kill Mom and Jessica and Max's mother, you know, what does it want?"

Dean shrugged. "No idea."

"Well, you think maybe it was after us?" Sam asked. "After Max and me?"

Dean and Liz shared a confused look. "Why would you think that?"

"I mean, either telekinesis or premonitions, we both had abilities, you know? Maybe it was after us for some reason," Sam guessed.

"Sam, if it wanted you, it would've just taken you, okay? This is not your fault," Dean stated firmly. "It's not about you."

"Then what is it about?" Sam asked.

"It's about that damn thing that did this to our family," Dean answered. "The thing that we're gonna find, the thing that we're gonna kill. And that's all."

Sam nodded and went back to packing for a moment. "Actually, there's, uh, somethin' else, too."

"Oh, jeez, what?" Dean groaned, wanting the subject dropped.

"When Max locked me in that closet, that big cabinet against the door - I moved it," Sam answered.

Dean laughed, thinking it was a joke. "You've got a little bit more upper body strength than I give you credit for."

Sam shook his head. "No, man, I moved it - like Max."

Dean and Liz both stared. "Oh. Right."

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

Liz was stunned. "Wow."

Dean grabbed a spoon and held it up. "Bend this," he ordered.

Sam sighed, giving him an exasperated look. "I can't turn it on and off, Dean."

"Well, how'd you do it?" Dean asked.

"I don't know, I can't control it," Sam admitted. "I saw you die, and it just came out of me, like a punch. You know, like a freak adrenaline thing."

Nodding, Dean put the spoon down. "Well, I'm sure it won't happen again."

"Yeah, maybe," Sam agreed. "Aren't you worried, man, aren't you worried that I could turn into Max or something?"

Dean shook his head. "Nope. No way. You know why?"

"No. Why?" Sam asked.

"Cause you've got one advantage that Max didn't have," Dean answered.

"Dad?" Sam inquired. "Because Dad's not here, Dean."

"No. Me and Liz," Dean answered smiling, and both Liz and Sam had to smile. "As long as we're around, nothing bad is gonna happen to you." He then grabbed his duffel bag and started for the door "Now then, I know what we need to do about your premonitions. I know where we have to go."

Sam and Liz exchanged a look, wondering what Dean was up to now as they grabbed their own bags. "Where?"

"Vegas," Dean responded, stilling smiling, and both Sam and Liz scoffed and went outside to the car. "What? Come on, man. Craps table. We'd clean up." He then turned off the light in the motel room as both Liz and Sam got in the car.

Dean watched them for a second from the door, thoughtfully, and finally he closed the door to the motel room before finally getting into the car for their next adventure._ 'I hope I'm right…I really do hope that I'm right.'_

* * *

A/N: And that's it for this story; now there are probably people out there who think that Max deserved to die, but I don't agreed, and the fact that he killed himself still makes me sad. Too often in this wide world, kids are being abused by their parents, and too often, no one will take a stand to stop the abuse, thinking that it's fine when it isn't; like Sam, I wished someone could have helped Max before he developed his ability, who knows what his life would have been like instead.

Okay, rant mode off and I'll see you all in the next story. R&R everyone!


End file.
